Running
by Jirel
Summary: What was Tokito doing before meeting up with Kubota? Another one-shot slice of life. Rated T for language.


What happened to Tokito before Kubota found him?

As always, Tokito and Kubota belong only to Kazuya Minekura.

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You think its dark out, but you're not sure. There are too many neon lights for it to ever be completely dark. But there are some places the neon doesn't reach and there you can find true darkness. You've wedged yourself into one of those spaces trying to cram your tired body into the concrete.

"Is he there?"

The voice sounds like its headed in another direction and you risk running towards a nearby alley.

"No" - Is that voice a little more distant?

You're pleased to hear the next voice getting fainter as you run down the alley.

"Well then look a little harder! He can't have gone far."

You're not really sure why you are running. You don't know who the voices belong to, you don't know who you are running from. You just know that the idea of going back (back where?) with them leaves you with chills all over your body and breaking out into a damp sweat.

Suddenly you crash into the wall of the alley and sink down into the mess of papers and garbage that litter the ground. "Fuck!" Not now, you don't have time for this now! But the pain in your hand doesn't care if you have time or not. It rips through your hand like lightening and your breath whistles between your teeth as you try not to scream. You want to jump up and dance around, trying to shake the pain out, but all you can do is grab your left wrist and squeeze, trying to stop the white hot agony from ripping through your palm.

Once you can move again you get up, bumbling and crashing your way down the alley, not really in any condition to walk but unwilling to stay in one place any longer. You don't know how long its been but neon lights now glow dimly in the light of day and you are still walking, still trying to get away. You don't know when you ate last. You pass behind an apartment and the smell of something cooking makes your stomach squeeze itself into a little ball. You check around and find where some noodle soup was thrown out. The broth has dribbled away but there are a few noodles lying in the trash on top of a dirty paper mat. Your stomach hurts so bad you don't even think about it, you grab the few noodles that are laying there and cram them into your mouth. Then its onwards, to keep moving.

You don't know anything but running and running. You've learned that cats and stray dogs are good indicators of where there might be food. Rats flock to food too, but they are more likely to eat rotten food than the cats and dogs are. You've learned not to approach the dogs if there are more than 3 of them, and to take a stick with you when you do. You want food, you don't want to be food.

You don't know how long you've been running. You can't remember ever not running. You haven't heard anyone coming after you in days. But you can't stop now. Where are you going? What can you do? You don't remember your name. You don't remember having anywhere to go. You're hiding in the alleys but there's competition here. People fight for the ability to get the best food from behind the cafe's and restaurants and when you try to fight them for your share they start yelling "Freak!" and point to your hand. When did the glove disappear? You run and run, but you're so tired. And so freakin' hungry. You've tried eating leaves but it doesn't help the hunger. Sometimes cardboard soaked in juice helps a little. And it tends to be left over after the rest of the food has been thrown away.

You can't run anymore. You do your best but all you can do is walk, stagger from one alley to another. You're so tired you can't think. You need to run, from... someone. You can't remember anymore. You can't even see the world around you anymore. Everything keeps getting fuzzier and fuzzier. Its all growing gray, finally you sink down at the end of an alley, next to a box. You'll just... just.... rest. Rest... for.. just...

You don't hear the feet that stop, see the dark eyes that look at you and then linger on your hand. You don't even feel it when hands reach down and hoist you up and eventually throw you over their shoulder. You have no idea what's going on. No idea that you're about to quit running away.

*************WAWAWAWAWA ******************************

Did anyone else notice that Tokito had a glove on over his hand before he ever met Kubota? And then lost it? BTW – nerve pain is a right bitch. The one thing that makes it bearable is it usually only lasts for a few seconds. I figure Tokito is getting it for longer than that and if I were him I'd be slamming the damned hand against a wall.

If you like it and you don't review I won't write more. If you don't like it and don't review I'll keep taking more space that better writers could use. :)


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